Midnight Missions
by jjessiie
Summary: Sneaking around an abandoned warehouse wasn't exactly how Maybeck wanted to spend his weekend. But nevertheless, somehow he was baited into accepting the mission and lured away from his couch and television. The only reason he's doing this is because he wants a sense of accomplishment. That and Charlene threatened to throw out the headquarters TV if he didn't. Spy AU


**Hey keepers! This is a Kingdom Keepers AU where they're spies, I don't know if it's going to be a one-shot or a multi-chapter, it all depends on whether I feel like continuing it! This chapter is mostly centered on Maybeck, if I make it a multi-chap all the others will be sure to appear. Anyway, here it is and I hope you enjoy!**

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Sneaking around an abandoned warehouse wasn't exactly how Maybeck wanted to spend his weekend. But nevertheless, somehow he was baited into accepting this tiring and utterly boring mission.

Field work was definitely his area of expertise- _except_ when there was no action whatsoever. In that case, he'd rather be nice and comfy on a couch in his apartment watching an old rerun of James Bond. He had always thought of himself as a real life Bond. They were both skillful spies, both had super good looks that the ladies loved, and both had somehow managed to cheat death multiple times.

A startling _clang_ knocked him out of his reverie and back into reality. While he was sinking in his thoughts, his foot carelessly kicked over a metal bucket. He cringed at the noise and mentally cursed himself. If there were any enemies here, he'd just blown his cover.

"Maybeck?" Philby's voice crackled in his earpiece. "What was that?" The agent knew that Philby, the main nerdy tech guy in the agency, was monitoring him at all times and scanning his numerous gadgets for any potential danger. He was probably bent over in his spinning chair, examining the multiple screens on the wall in front of him. His computers were to his right, and an open desk space with all his documents to his left. Maybeck had only been in his ally's office twice, since usually there was never any reason for him to be there.

"Chill out, Philbs. Just rammed into a bucket, that's all." He said in a smooth whisper, covering up his anger towards himself. He could practically see the nerd's frown at his words.

"Don't blame me for being cautious, Maybeck. You'll be grateful when I save your sorry butt from trouble." Philby reprimanded. Maybeck rolled his eyes, but his attention perked up when he heard something else. Muffled words could be heard through the device, that sounded female. He could faintly hear Philby pulling his own earpiece away and talking to the unknown stranger. They exchanged a few words, before he could make out the rustling of Philby readjusting his earpiece.

"That was Willa." The redhead explained. "She was examining the blueprints in more detail, and found that there should be a ladder somewhere near the corner farthest from the door. If this is an anthill, the clues should be up there."

Maybeck scanned the area. It was a large room, it was a warehouse after all, with concrete floors smudged with who knows what, and thick metal walls. Rickety boards packed onto the underside of the roof seemed to be the only thing holding the ancient ceiling up. It was shaped like a rectangle, and on the opposing short side a three story balcony extended to about a quarter of the room. Dust was compacted into the air, indicating that the warehouse hadn't been used in a long time. The place was mainly empty, aside from some scattered cardboard boxes and tin barrels. Cobwebs were everywhere, and stray spiders weren't hard to find.

In the corner opposite from the old open door he had entered previously, were four giant metal bins right under the first floor of the balcony. Each one reached the same height as him, possibly even taller. They were wide, too, and looked like a bunch of oversized garbage bins. One was close to the side, leaving only a narrow gap between it and the wall. That must've been where the ladder was located.

Time to get serious.

"I think I see it." Maybeck murmured, keeping his voice low. He started to skirt around to his destination, staying close to the walls and near the shadows. Only an amateur would walk straight into the open, putting themselves in a weak and vulnerable position if any enemies were around. No-it was better to stay concealed and out of harm's way. Now at a better angle, he could see a blue ladder directly straight ahead of him, boxed in between the bin and the wall.

A successful smirk broke out on his face, just like it always did when he accomplished something. He started to move a little faster, excitement brewing at the thought of something cool on the next level. He stopped right in front of it, hesitating a moment. The formerly blue paint was chipped off and faded, and rust coated the bars. The agent glanced behind him and sighed at his awkward position. The bin rose above his head, which meant if someone were to attack he'd have to run back through the small crevice or go up the ladder.

Or of course the enemy could just come from both of those options and he'd be trapped.

Wonderful.

Maybeck internally reminded himself to stop wasting time worrying and just do it. He'd been talking way to much with Philby lately. He grabbed the sketchy bars of the ladder and hoisted himself up, praying that it didn't break with his weight. Peeking his eyes out just above the opening, he was relieved to see it was mostly empty. On the opposite side of the balcony was the ladder leading to the third floor, and to his right it was overlooking the rest of the warehouse.

He climbed up the rest of the way and spotted a wooden crate marked " **Top Secret** ". He almost laughed out loud. So much for being "secret" about it. Just above the crate were some papers taped to the wall. Some had lost their stick and were resting on the contaminated floor. Approaching the area, he bent over and gently picked up one of the delicate papers. The edges were frayed and smudged with dirt, as if they had been passed from many different grimy fingers.

It looked like some sort of diagram or a poorly drawn map, with strange markings and random lines. Maybeck neatly folded it put it in the bag on his belt; there would be time to examine it later back at headquarters. He was just about to grab the rest of the papers on the wall when a loud bang echoed through the warehouse.

The fearless agent froze-he was not alone. Another crash resumed, followed by another, and then then the sounds of many footsteps. He rushed to the balcony and overlooked the rest of the warehouse. He saw nothing, and then came to one conclusion.

Whatever was making the noise was right under him.

But then, how could they have gotten there without him noticing? Surely he would've heard _something_ of them walking across the warehouse.

So…

Oh.

The bins.

Maybeck slammed his fist onto air and muttered a few choice words at his stupidity. Those abnormal bins had been holding whatever was coming after him. They had been there the whole time, watching and waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

"Philby? We have a problem…" He notified into his earpiece. The line was silent. "Philby?" He sighed and rubbed his forehead, all of a sudden feeling a sudden sense of fatigue. The techie had warned that the connection was bad out here, and it could cut out at any moment. They had been lucky it had held out so long. Maybeck _was_ beginning to wonder why Philby hadn't been given any of his usual annoying comments.

He spotted the top of the ladder shake, signaling the climbing of multiple predators. A enormous, burly man with an eye-patch and scruffy facial hair appeared from the top of the ladder, getting to his overly large feet. His hair was greasy and his arms matted with dirt. The filthy shirt he wore was two sizes too small, and was ripped in some places, showing only a glimpse of the muscles underneath. He wasn't that pleasant to look at, but his buddies that started to join him weren't all that spectacular either.

Maybeck recognized which group he was dealing with. Pirates.

"Aren't you guys supposed to be sailing the seas on your rowboat?" He asked cockily. The lead pirate scrunched up his nose at the insult and looked ready to charge, but then thought better of it.

"We took a little break. Decided to test out the land for a bit. Captain wanted to terrorize some of the natives up here." He answered with a gruff accent. Maybeck raised his eyebrows.

"Looks like you chose the wrong place. As you can see you're in the middle of nowhere, with no victims to be seen." He remarked, stalling for time until he could think of a decent plan. Six pirates now stood behind the first, all wielding swords and some sort of weapons. He had no doubt that there were more of them below, maybe around twenty judging from the sizes of those bins.

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong." The pirate bellowed in a menacing voice. "You're here, and you're our victim." The pirates held up their swords in unity, before promptly charging. Maybeck's alert brown eyes widened. Even with his spy gear, weapons, and awesome ninja skills, there was no way he could fight all of them off on his own.

He processed his surroundings and analyzed the best escape route in less then a second. The only possible option was the ladder leading to the third and final floor, which would eventually lead to a dead end.

A blade swung two inches from Maybeck's chest, narrowly missing him. Either die or climb the ladder. He chose what he thought was the better of the two options. The spy darted to the right, bending backwards to avoid an incoming weapon. He grabbed the rungs and hastily pulled himself up in order to escape the danger. His attackers growled and shouts of protests rang through the air. They were good with a sword, but not slow and certainly not smart. Except for maybe that lead pirate.

Looking down through the hole, Maybeck could see the pirates start to shimmy upwards. His breaths were short and ragged as he began to question his survival. The third floor, also the top floor, that he stood on was empty, except for a metal bucket near the wall.

How convenient.

There was a clang as he hurled the bucket downwards on the advancing pirates. The closest one was knocked off the ladder and tumbled onto his comrades below, sending himself and some of his buddies in a state of unconciousness. That would buy him a few seconds.

The agent's mind tried to come up with something, but found only emptiness. It was then that he saw his escape. There was a hatch in the very center of the warehouse, on the ceiling, far beyond the balcony and his reach. If he could somehow get over there, he might be able to open the hatch and regain his freedom! He knew what he had to do. It was risky and could end up with him as a crushed carcass on the floor, but it was his only option.

The support beams for the ceiling were laid horizontally above him. If he could reach them, he could pull himself up and on. There was a narrow gap between the beam and the ceiling, small enough for him to lay flat on his stomach and still have some wiggle room. He could gimmick his way across all the way to the hatch and be home free. He could only hope that the pirates wouldn't be stupid enough to follow.

Speaking of pirates, the first popped his head into the third floor and locked eyes with Maybeck. He released an evil cackle, thinking that he and his cronies had won the battle. Not today.

Maybeck stretched his arms up to maximum capacity and leaped up with as much force as he could muster. It was enough to give him the opportunity to snag the side of the beam with both hands and hoist himself up. He heard the pirates' angry cries but pushed them aside. The beam was skinnier then he'd estimated, only being a little more than three fourths of his body in width.

His sore hands reached out in front of him and grabbed the sides of the bar, dragging him forward using only upper body strength. The metal of the bar was rusty, making it difficult for him to slide forward. Blocking out the protests of his attackers, he kept going and didn't look back. Unfortunately, he looked down.

He immediately felt queasy. The hard floor below seemed to float closer and farther away every few seconds. If he fell, he would either die or break his spine and be paralyzed for life. He sucked in a breath (along with his fear) and continued on. He was already half-way there. Gingerly, he craned his neck to get a glimse of the incoming pirates. They were unsuccessfully trying to follow him on the beam, standing on each other to get _on_ the beam, and trying to maintain their balance. There was a deep bellow as the closest one to him slipped and went tumbling. His body cracked from the impact, the sound rattling the warehouse. Maybeck grimanced.

The hatch was so close; within ten feet. There was a newfound determination as he pushed on. He smiled as he adjusted himself directly under his escape path, and he attempted to flip himself onto his back so he could unscrew it. It only took a small misjudgment of calculations as to how far he could lean, and he slipped.

There was a horrific sense of falling as he lost all contact with the beam. The feeling only lasted less than a second before he snagged it again. There was a sharp pain in the wrist that was holding him above probable death and he yelped. It had twisted at an unnatural angle as he grabbed the bar when he fell. He quickly grabbed the beam with his other hand, lessoning the pressure on his throbbing wrist. He ignored it and heaved himself up, strained grunts escaping past his lips. It wasn't the pirates he was concerned with anymore.

This time he was successfully able to lay with his back on the beam; the hatch just above his face. Bracing his arms on the handle, he twisted with all his power. Tears gathered in his eyes from the agony tearing through his injured wrist, but he kept going. Muscles bulged underneath his black jacket and his eyes squeezed shut. Suddenly, the pressure was gone as the handle loosened and began to turn. Maybeck almost laughed with relief. He eagerly twisted it the rest of the way until it couldn't be turned anymore. He pushed on the hatch, and it clicked open with a satisfying _pop_.

He shoved it open and exposed his upper half into the open air. The spy couldn't help but throw his arms out to the sides and embrace the comfortably warm air. It was too stuffy in the enclosed warehouse.

Something yanked on his foot, still standing on the beam. It knocked him to his knees as his chest lunged downward below the beam. He was able to brace his hands on the ceiling for support as he came face to face with a crouching pirate. The pirate scowled and grabbed Maybeck's arm in a desperate attempt to toss him over the side. However, Maybeck was stronger and thrust his attacker over the edge. The villain dangled there for a moment, sharing a shocked glance with his opponent before brutally falling.

The only good guy in the room was happy to see that the other pirates weren't anywhere near close to him, which meant he got to have a little fun. He opened his jacket and pulled out a device smaller than his hand with a small switch in the center. If he switched it, the mini piece of machinery in his hand would blow this warehouse and everything inside it in exactly one minute. That would give sixty seconds to get as far as possible from the building. It was a risk, but it was worth it if he could take down all these bad guys. He looked at it in his hand and smirked, before triggering the switch and tossing it on the floor far below him.

Incredibly fast, Maybeck darted back through the hatch, before kicking it closed and sprinting across the long roof. He already had out his handy dandy escape rope and was ready to jump. He leapt over the side and began to plunge straight to the earth below. He pressed the button on the back handle he held and a rope shot out, attaching itself to the wall with an ultra-stickable suction. He hung on for dear life with his good wrist as he swung alongside of the warehouse wall. Since he was swinging horizontally, he waited until he was close enough to hit the ground without dying, and then dropped rope and hit the ground.

He easily landed on his feet and began to sprint like his life depended on it (which it did). He never glanced back, just kept shooting across the desert terrain. Because he was internally keeping count, he turned his head just in time to see the whole building explode in a brilliant ring of fire. He felt the wave of heat as the force of it knocked him off his feet. The impact briefly tore the wind out of his lungs as he chocked on flying dust. When it cleared, he could only make out a huge cloud of black smoke coming from the once warehouse, along with a few stray fires.

He grinned and propped himself up on his elbows, admiring his work. A call of happiness pierced the air while he laughed. His celebration was interrupted by the sound of his earpiece crackling.

"Maybeck…I lost…there…okay…Maybeck…you there? I think…the connection…getting better." Philby's muffled voice said. Maybeck whooped.

"I'm here, Philby! I told you those baddies didn't stand a chance against me!" He shouted, high on glee.

"Maybeck? You defeated them?" Philby questioned.

"Aw, come on Philbs. You didn't doubt me did you?" The giddy agent joked, too happy to be annoyed by his friend's not-so-strong faith in him.

"Of course not!" The redhead protested. "I'll send Amanda to pick you up in the helicopter. I'm going to take you off the line now, so you can celebrate in peace. Radio me if anything comes up."  
"You got it, dweeb." He heard the earpiece flicker out, and there was silence. He stared at the rubble in front of him, as his grin slowly returned.

"Whoo-hoo!" He screamed, dancing around a bit.

Mission accomplished.

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 **Like? Dislike? Review and be sure to tell me what you think (this is my first in this fandom)! ~Jess**


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